


Misdemeanors

by AutumnPen



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Drinking, Drunk Driving, Happy Ending, M/M, Making Up, Minor Character Death, Off screen, Post-Break Up, there's a lot of sad but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 10:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7754329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnPen/pseuds/AutumnPen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the prompts: Modern setting Killugon + "You're my ex and I'm a cop and I had to arrest you because you're drunk driving"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misdemeanors

**Author's Note:**

> Art trade with tumblr user mikkm - who is a lovely artist! If you enjoy HxH please go check out their stuff, because it is incredibly beautifully done!

The last person in the world he expects to see when the tinted driver's side window rolls down is Killua Zoldyck.

Gon hasn't seen Killua in well over a year – not since they broke up. Not since Killua had packed all his things to move halfway across the country, where his father was waiting to educate him on how to run the business he would one day inherit.

Silva Zoldyck, Gon knows from years of knowing Killua, spends most of his days holed up in his fancy office at the top of some fancy mirror-faced skyscraper in some fancy, far-away city. Gon knows that he's done this for years – since before he and Killua even met. Gon knows that to Silva, his business is the most important thing. He knows that most of the Zoldyck family agrees with this, although Silva's habitual absence is met with mixed reception. On occasion as he and Killua were growing up, Silva would separate himself from his work long enough to fly back in town to spend a holiday or weekend with his family. That, too, was met with mixed reception. Gon knows that, since a young age, Killua had been told about how he, the promising heir, would one day take over the business from Silva. Killua had left him to do just that.

(He'd only met Silva in person a little more than a few dozen times, maybe, but that – and hearsay – had been enough for Gon to know, too, that Silva had never really cared much for his favorite son associating himself with a kid like Gon Freecss. Gon does not think of this now. Gon tries to think of this never. It changes nothing to think on it.)

Gon his unable to reconcile all this knowledge with the fact that Killua is here, now, glaring daggers out at him from inside the expensive looking car that Gon has just pulled over for speeding. For moments that seem like an eternity, Gon's entire world spins off balance. All at once, every bit of air leaves his lungs.

Those eyes, the same shocking, breath-taking shade of blue that he remembers, pin him in place, like an insect to a board. Gon feels like a wound he's just managed to heal up has been sliced neatly back open – leaving him vulnerable, transparent, his soft and tender insides on display. A profound, keen sort of ache makes a home in his chest. _Not fair_ , he thinks. _All this time spent stitching myself up, and here you are, cutting through the sutures. Why would you do that? That was all that was keeping me together – all that was keeping me from coming apart at the seams. Why?_

Gon forcibly halts those thoughts. He makes himself take a deep breath, searches for a sense of calm. He's not coming apart. He won't. He's not even bleeding, although he feels like he could be. And even if he were, he doesn't have to let Killua see that, does he? This isn't about them – Gon and Killua – because, he thinks with a sad sort of resolution, they aren't _Gon and Killua_ anymore. He's a cop, and Killua is a civilian who had just been speeding. This is his job, and he can do it. He just has to be professional.

“Fffuckin figuress,” Killua hisses under his breath, leaning back moodily into the leather seat, apparently tiring of trying to dissect Gon's insides with just a look. He cuts his gaze forward instead, staring at some undetermined point through his windshield. Both of his hands, thin and pale and lithe, grip the steering wheel a little tighter for a moment.

“I'm – Are you aware why I pulled you over tonight, Mr. Zoldyck?” Gon finally manages to speak. The formality feels foreign and wrong on his tongue. Killua even snorts from his seat.

“'Causssse fuck my life, tha'sss why?”

Gon wrinkles his nose at the uncharacteristic slur in Killua's speech. “No, Mister Zoldyck -” another scoff from Killua - “you were going ten miles over th-” It hits him then – the unmistakable scent of alcohol, startling him enough that he interrupts himself. But that can't be right. Killua's too smart for that, he knows. Only when he breathes in again the smell is still there. “Killua,” be begins again, his tone soft and disbelieving. “Have you been drinking?”

“OH,” Killua's voice raises, but he still doesn't look in Gon's direction as he speaks. “'s _'Killua'_ now, s'it? What happened t' ' _Misss'er Zoldyck_ ', huh?” As he speaks his name, his tone drops down into what Gon can only assume is meant to be an insulting impression of his own voice.

“Killua,” Gon barely suppresses an irritated breath. He hasn't seen Killua in what feels like ages, but the concern that floods his chest feels natural as anything. He can't do this – can't fake distance and formality with – with _Killua._ Something has to be up for him to be out like this. As a cop, he knows he needs to determine just how drunk Killua is and possibly take further action. As someone who used to be incredibly close to the drunk driver in question, he just wants to figure out what's wrong. “You're drunk, aren't you? Why are you out driving? This isn't like you.”

That, apparently, is not the right way to go about figuring out what he wants. Suddenly, Killua is seething. His shoulders tense, and Gon can all but feel the change in his mood, then anger rolling off him like heat as he swings his gaze back towards him, scowling, yelling, “'nd how the FUCK would you know that, huh?!” He punctuates his point by smacking the center of his steering wheel, jumping when the horn blares loudly, like he'd forgotten it was there. Still, he goes on, stumbling through his words, “You – fuckin' – you. Haven't heard fromm you in fuckin' year you- you. Fuck. How would y’ know what ‘m… fuck.” In a moment of frustration he throws himself back against his seat again, a wordless growling noise coming from his throat.

Gon frowns, lets Killua have his moment while his heart twists painfully. “Would you submit to sobriety test?” He asks in his most patient voice, even while his mind is whirling, trying to think up an explanation for the impossibility in front of him. What on earth could drive Killua to be so reckless? He was normally so – so in control, so rational. Even when they had been just two stupid kids running around causing hell together, Killua had always been the one to think their way out of trouble, avoiding anything unnecessarily stupid.

“No.” Killua's response makes him sound like a difficult teenager, which brings back too many memories of Killua as a difficult teenager. Gon wants to thwack him in the forehead, like Killua had always been prone to do when he'd done something idiotic.

“Killua, if you don't take the test I'll have to take you in.”

Killua heaves a huge sigh and sits up straighter in his seat, “Uuuughhhh,” only to slump forward and lean his forehead against the wheel. His wild hair falls over his eyes, blocking almost half his face from view. “You're gunna hafta take m' in 'nyways.” His voice is slightly muffled from his position.

Another frown. “Because you'll fail the test?”

“Just fuckin' get it over with _Officer Freecss_ ,” Killua says, louder this time, then mumbles profanities to himself.

Gon sighs to himself and rubs the back of his neck, then instructs his ex-boyfriend and once best friend to get out of the vehicle.

Arresting Killua is one of the most awkward experiences of his life. He wants to apologize, to tell him that he really doesn't want to go through with this but he _has_ to. Instead, he goes about the business of patting him down as carefully as he can, and tells him his rights, then pulls his handcuffs off his belt.

He pauses, frowns, and says, “I have to cuff you now,” as if Killua doesn't know that. Again, he has to stomp down the urge to apologize.

Killua, facing away from him and hands already behind his back, just snorts a little. “Are they th' ffuzzy kind?”

“Killua, that's not funny,” Gon says as he fastens the cuffs into place.

Killua laughs. “Tha's right, y' didn't like th' fuzzy kind anyway, right?”

Gon pinches the bridge of his nose and bites his tongue against any retorts. “Just,” he opens the back door of his patrol car, “get in the car, Killua.”

Once Killua is situated he closes the door behind him and climbs back into the driver's seat. The drive back to the precinct isn't terribly long, but with the man who thoroughly broke his heart one year prior in the backseat, it seems like ages. “I... didn't know you were back in town,” he says after a while, unable to help himself.

“Ha!” Is Killua's response, followed by a more muted, “S' none a' your fuckin' business, s'it?”

Gon bites his lip. There are a million things he could say to that, but he says none of them. When he sets his mind to it, Killua is the most difficult person in the world. There would be no civil conversation or explanations from Killua anytime soon, so he makes no further attempts at communication for the rest of the drive. Behind him, the taller man sinks into a sullen silence before they reach their destination. Even as Gon leads him to a holding cell, Killua is quiet, almost melancholy. It eats at him, not knowing why Killua is acting like this, but he doesn't know what else to do.

_I should tell Alluka_ , Gon thinks suddenly, and when he gets the chance he finds a private place to pull out his phone. He really shouldn't do this, but he's grateful he never deleted Alluka's number from his contact list.

_'Look_ , _'_ he sends in a text message, _'I'm not exactly supposed to do this and Killua will probably be calling you soon anyway, but you need to come get him from my precinct. I just arrested him for drinking while driving_. _'_

Almost immediately, the animation of an ellipses pops onto his screen and he waits while Alluka types a response.

_'Thanks_ , _'_ She says. _'I'll be there soon_.'

He manages to overhear Killua when he's allowed his phone call, and is able to confirm that he'd correctly guessed who Killua might call when he hears him softly say her name, shortly followed by a subdued, “I'm sorry.”

He walks away before he can eavesdrop any more.

When she arrives Gon can't help but feel relieved. It's not his place to take care of Killua anymore, he has to remind himself. Besides that, it's clear Killua doesn't want his help. Which is fine. It's fine because – they aren't like that anymore. That's just the way things are for them now. Alluka, though – he knows she has Killua's best interests at heart, truly. He trusts her to be there to pick of the pieces of... whatever this is, given that he can't do it himself.

“Gon,” she says in a soft voice and with a small smile as he stands awkwardly from his desk to greet her. A few papers get knocked loose in the process, and he has to bend to pick them up before straightening to greet her properly.

“Alluka.” Before, he would have wrapped her up in a big bear hug whenever seeing her, and she'd laugh and Killua would hiss at him to be careful with his sister – but now? Now, Gon isn't sure what's appropriate. He offers his hand to shake.

She does take his hand – but with both of her own, cradling his between. Absently, he notes how dull her outfit seems in contrast to what he's used to – all blacks and grays. The only color she wears is the blue headband in her hair, a much darker shade than her eyes, and a matching cardigan pulled over her dress.

“It's so good to see you,” she says and he knows she means it. She squeezes his hand a little before folding her own back down in front of her. “I wish... The circumstances were better, but...”

“Yeah,” he says, lifting a hand to rub at the back of his neck. “I'm – I'm sorry you had to come here like this. I'm glad it's you, though. That you, y'know, came for him.”

She makes a noise that is like a laugh, but more thoughtful, and devoid of humor. “It's... probably for the best that I be the one to do this,” she agrees, and although her expression is somewhat guarded he thinks he understands.

He hums, and nods, and a brief silence stretches between them before he blurts out, “I was so... surprised, I guess, that he- That isn't like something he'd normally do, and I...” Gon doesn't know how to continue, for some reason more wary of seeming presumptuous in front of Alluka than he had been when reprimanding Killua. Perhaps it was because, despite everything that had happened between him and her brother, she'd always been kind towards him in their sparse interactions since... “I – I didn't even know he was in town,” he finishes, lamely.

Alluka's frown is sympathetic as she listens, and she furrows her brow a little afterwards, looking thoughtful before she says, “Grandfather passed. Brother came in for the funeral, this morning.”

Gon feels like a bucket of ice water has been dumped on him. _Oh_ , he thinks. He hadn't been very well acquainted with – Zeno was his name, wasn't it? _That_ had to be why, though. He doesn't remember Killua having been particularly close with his grandfather. At least, no more close than he was with either of his parents, which is to say that things between them were probably complicated. Killua's feelings on many of his family members had always seemed be a mixed bag respect and resolution with a healthy-if-suppressed dose of resentment, too. Regardless, losing a family member you had even a strained relationship with is difficult, Gon knows. “Alluka, I'm so sorry,” he says, wishing his words could better convey his sympathy.

Alluka's smile is tight, like it's covering up hurt or some other more complex emotion. It makes Gon remember that Killua isn't the only one who has strained, complicated relationships within their family. Still, she says, “Thank you.”

Gon bites the inside of his lip, but still the words come out, “I guess that explains why he... Why Killua...”

Alluka frowns again, shifts her stance, crosses her arms in front of her in a way that reminds Gon of someone folding in on themselves against a cold breeze. “I... Maybe,” she says, like she isn't certain that was the reason. But what else could have driven Killua to get behind the driver's wheel under the influence? What else could drive Killua, who wasn't prone to drinking to excess, to get drunk in the first place? “But maybe not just that,” she admits quietly. When she notices Gon's confused expression, she says, “If... I shouldn't be the one to say it. Brother should really...”

Gon's lips tug up in a rueful smile at that. “Whatever it is, I don't think Killua's very interested in talking to me right now. ...Or potentially ever.” He tries to laugh, but it comes out hollow.

“Gon,” Alluka starts, softly, and seems ready to say more, but Gon just shakes his head.

“Here, I'll … I'll show to the holding cell, and someone will get him for you. I should... I should really get back to finishing this paperwork.” It feels like an excuse even though it's the truth.

He leads the way for her, and eventually passes her off to one of his coworkers, but not before he's near enough to look up and see Killua looking directly at him from the holding cell. For just a moment, their gazes meet, but then Killua looks away, focuses on his sister. Gon, heart in his throat, turns and makes his way back to his desk.

\- - - - - - - - -

Gon doesn't see or hear from Killua again before the court date, several weeks later. He is somewhat surprised that it has taken so long for the court date to come. Killua has to be needed elsewhere by now, after all. He's sure it's been inconvenient for him and his family for the hearing to take so long. Part of him had even assumed that, with the Zoldyck family's influence and this being Killua's first and only offense, someone somewhere might be persuaded to sweep this all under the rug. But maybe he had been letting his imagination get ahead of him, because it all happens like it's supposed to.

The whole thing is rather uneventful, all things considered. Killua pleads guilty. His punishment is kept to a fine (which Gon knows means very little to someone as well off as a member of the Zoldyck family) and the strong recommendation that Killua take a driver's education course. All in all, it is pretty standard.

Gon just does his part throughout it – takes his time on the stand, answers all the questions asked, does his level best to keep from staring at Killua when he has no particular reason to look in his direction. He even manages to pretend for a little while that being in the same room with Killua with so much left unspoken and unresolved between them doesn't hurt.

He sits through the rest of the hearing like he's supposed to, and when court is adjourned he stands to leave. _This is probably the last time I'll see Killua_ , Gon thinks, and tells himself it's for the best. Even if he thought he knew how to begin fixing the rift between them, Killua apparently doesn't want that, and that's fine. Maybe he's even mad at Gon. Maybe he's been stewing in his anger about getting pulled over, and that Gon of all people had pulled him over. Maybe he's been waiting impatiently for the past few weeks for this whole ordeal to be over so he can get life back on track. He doesn’t belong here anymore, after all.There’s nothing here important enough to stay for. That's all fine, too. It's fine because it has to be fine. It's fine and it's over now, and Killua will leave again, and Gon can pick up where he left off and thread new stitches through his poor, beat-up heart.

He's almost at the building's exit when he hears a voice calling his name.

A intimately familiar, completely unexpected voice calling his name.

“Gon!” The sound bounces, echoes off the walls of the hallway as Gon turns to see Killua making his way towards him, somewhere between a jog and a speedy walk. “Hey, Gon, wait up.”

Gon freezes, feels his heart thrum so hard in his chest he's worried there might be something medically wrong with it. _Stop it_ , he thinks. _You'll just agitate the places you're hurt in. Stop being so excitable._ “Uh, yeah?”

Killua comes to a halt in front of him, and for a moment they just look at each other. Killua's brow is knit. His mouth is twisted at an angle that Gon recognizes as a mark of frustration. The longer they stand there, in the hall, mere yards away from the door, the more Gon wants to just turn and make a break for it. Whatever Killua has to say to him – he's sure it isn't good. Is he going to hound him for arresting him? Give him a hard time for calling Alluka? Tell him to fuck off and mind his own business from now on? Why doesn't he just spit it out already? _Hurry up_ , he wants to say. _Hurry up and just say it – just say it. Don't you know how hard it is just standing here in front of you like this? Just say it already, it already hurts so just please get it over with._

“I'm an idiot,” Killua says at last.

“I- … What?” Gon doesn't know what to say to that.

Killua's cheeks turn a familiar shade of red. It makes Gon feel a little nostalgic. “Look, I'm-” He interrupts himself, scoffs and looks off to the side as he takes a moment to gather his words. When he meets Gon's gaze again, he holds it. “I wanna... I want to talk to you, if that's alright? I mean – I can't right this moment, but later maybe? I should have done it before, but I'm an idiot, and I just. Can I meet you somewhere? To talk?”

Gon is only able to blink his response for several moments.

Killua frowns, speaks again before Gon can find his own voice. “If you don't want to that's fine. Just say s-”

“What? No, Killua, that's! That's not it, I... I'd really like to talk with you.” It's okay to admit that, right? Killua had just said the same, so admitting that much should be safe. “I just didn't think... Yeah, we should talk. I don't have much to do today anyhow.”

Cheeks warming again, Killua responds, simply, “Oh.” He shifts a little, folds his arms defensively against himself and Gon almost laughs because it reminds him of Alluka when she'd come to bail Killua out all those weeks ago. “Okay, then, I... I've got some things I have to take care of. But I... I'll text you?” His voice lilts to make it a question.

“Um,” Gon is unable to stop the tentative smile that touches his lips. “Yeah? Yeah, that's fine. Do you... You still know my number?”

Killua scoffs, “Dummy,” before dropping his gaze. “Yeah, I remember it.”

For some reason, that makes Gon feel warm inside. _Stop_ , he thinks again. “Okay. I'll see you later, then?”

“Yeah,” Killua confirms. “I'll see you.”

Gon checks his phone as he leaves the courthouse. It's 10:43AM when he walks down its steps, all nervous butterflies in his stomach and knots tying themselves in his chest.

Killua's text comes at 12:56 PM.

_'Hey, I just finished wrapping up some stuff. Do you wanna meet now?'_

 _'Yeah_ ,' Gon texts back. _'How about at the park?'_

_'Sounds good. Be there soon.'_

\- - - - - - - - -

He finds Killua waiting on a bench for him. Gon takes his seat next to him and for a span of time neither of them speaks. It is pleasantly warm out, but the cool breeze that blows by them is a reminder than fall will soon be here. Birds twitter in a nearby tree. Distantly, someone's dog is barking. Gon's palms feel almost clammy. He wipes them against his jeans.

After a moment, Gon starts, “Is your family really mad about the DUI?”

Killua huffs a breath out his nose, leans forward to rest both elbows on his knees. “You could say that. Mom wanted Dad to try to get me off without pleading guilty, thought we could raise enough trouble that the charges would be dismissed.”

“Oh?” Gon watches Killua out of the corner of his eye.

“I didn't want to do that, though. It was my fault, and you were just doing your job.”

Gon frowns. “I didn't want to. Arrest you, I mean.”

Killua laughs a little. “I mean, it wasn't really about what you wanted to do, was it?”

“Mmm. ...I guess not.”

The silence stretches out for a few more moments between them, and this time it's Killua who breaks it.

“Dad didn't want to... He wanted me to deal with the consequences, anyhow. He, uh... He's not very happy with me, right now. I think he wants to prove some point about me needing his help.” Gon watches as Killua lets his head hang a little, one hand moving to rub anxiously at the back of a pale neck. Gon can feel that there's more Killua wants to say – something else he's trying to get out. Gon waits. Finally, he says, “I quit.”

 _...What?_

“You... Killua, what?”

Killua sits up straighter then, looks sideways at Gon, wearing half a smile. “I quit. I don't work for my dad anymore.”

It doesn’t make any more sense the second time he says it. Gon is furrows his brows, lips parting to say something but nothing comes out.

Killua threads his fingers together in front of him, directs his gaze downward. “That's what I... I'd decided, before Grandfather passed...”

In the pause, Gon is unable to stop himself from apologizing, “I'm sorry about that, Killua.”

But Killua only shakes his head. “I'm fine. ...Well, not totally, I guess, with that, but. I don't know. It's not as hard for me as it is for Mom. Or Dad, I think... But he's...” He shakes his head again. “But, I'd, um. I'd already told Dad that I didn't want to work for him anymore, and no one really took that well.”

Gon hums. He could have guessed they wouldn't. Killua taking over after his father had been something they had been counting on for, well, forever. And now, with Zeno gone, too... Looking at Killua, Gon has a sudden realization, even as Killua hesitantly begins to explain. Those two things happening so closely together – he can pretty well guess how Killua's family would react.

“They tried to use him, Grandfather, as a reason to get me to stay.” Killua's hands grip each other more tightly for a moment, fingertips going white with the pressure. “They said I was disrespecting his memory, and they wouldn't get off my case, so I...”

“Killua, it's okay.” He really doesn't have to be explaining all this to Gon. He doesn’t owe Gon this, badly though he’d wanted it. He resists the urge to lay a hand on Killua's back and rub comforting circles there.

Again, Killua lets his head hang, pushes both hands into his hair as if warring off a headache. He sits up, though, and leans against the bench's backrest. He tilts his chin up, eyes looking skywards. Today, the sky is the same shade as Killua's eyes. “I wasn't... very happy, there,” he says by way of explanation. “I was just... pretty miserable, all the time, honestly.”

Gon takes the time to process that, to figure out the best way to respond. Instead of looking at Killua, he looks at the ground, at his own hands folded in front of him. “...Well. If quitting will make you happier, then I think it's the right choice. I think... Trying to live up to other people's expectations just... leads to unhappiness.”

When Killua laughs, Gon looks over to find Killua looking at him. He knows Killua understands what he means. They've known each other for so long, Killua knows the kind of experience he’s had trying to prove himself for others' sake. “Yeah. I think you've told me that before.”

Gon smiles half a smile. “Maybe.”

“I should have listened to you.”

“Mm. Maybe. I can't usually recommend following my advice, so I guess I can't blame you for not listening before.”

Killua rolls his eyes. “You were always really good at selling yourself short.”

“Hey, Killua...”

“Hm?”

“Why are you telling me all of this now?”

It's the wrong thing to ask. He can tell by the way Killua's shoulders tense, the defensive posture he sinks into. Gon watches him struggle with words, and half expects him not to say anything at all.

“Alluka-” He begins, but stops himself. Gon remembers telling Alluka how certain he was Killua didn't want to talk to him. He wonders, suddenly, if that had led to her pressuring Killua to approach him. It seems like something she might do. “I just... I don't... You were my best friend,” he finishes.

_Until you left me_ , Gon doesn't say.

Killua looks at him, frowning, and asks, “Why didn't you ever try to contact me?”

Gon knits his brows together. “Why didn't you?”

Killua glares at him then, and Gon can almost hear the protest before he speaks it – _That's not fair, Gon, I asked you first_ – but he doesn't say it. He looked away for a time and Gon, in a moment of stubbornness, prepares himself to wait. Killua was the one who had asked him to meet him, after all. “... You know what they're like,” Killua says at last. “I used to... I could talk to you about anything, before.”

Gon wants to say something mean in return to that. He wants to remind Killua that he _didn't_ always tell him everything. He wants to remind Killua about how hard he sometimes fought against telling Gon anything. But it doesn't seem like the right thing to say, now. Not with such heavy subjects hanging above them, not with Killua here _trying_... Trying to do something, although Gon can't guess what. “Yeah,” he says instead. “I know.”

One of Killua's hands curls into a fist, and he presses it into his palm as he turns his head in the opposite direction and whispers a curse. Then again, “Shit, Gon,” before he answers Gon's other question. “It was all... I was just trying to do what they wanted me to, Gon. I thought I could be what they wanted me to be.”

The truth behind those words leaves Gon feeling like something heavy has hit him right in his chest. What they wanted him to be... Of course. All of the plans Killua's family had for him – Gon had never fit into that equation.

In the sense of fairness, Gon offers his answer as well. “I thought you didn't want to hear from me,” he admits, knowing this is a dangerous thing to do while he still feels so vulnerable. He could so easily spill the rest of his heart like this. “I thought you finally realized how much of a loser I am and got fed up with me.”

Killua makes a frustrated noise in his throat. “Gon, I never – You're not a loser. We've been best friends for ages – you were – you were so important to me.”

Gon swallows. “You were important to me too.”

Killua angles his legs inwards so he sits facing towards Gon a little more. “I... Part of me wanted you to... To try to stop me. To keep contacting me.”

“I-” Gon's voice catches a little on the lump in his throat and he has to try again. “How could I have known that, Killua? I told you I wanted you to stay, and I told you how I felt, and you left anyway. I didn't want to overstep by... by chasing after you like an unwanted idiot.”

“So you just... gave up?” Killua looks pained as he says it, his voice low.

“Only after you did,” Gon says, his voice just as thick. He might cry at any moment.

Killua's hands sit as fists, curled on his legs, shaking a little. Gon thinks he might leave now – that those words will be the final straw. He'd said them knowing they could hurt, but _he hurts_. And he's petty and he's not the best person or the strongest person and it's probably better for Killua to see all that – to recognize his flaws now, to make this easier on the both of them.

_'You were so important to me' –_ he'd said. _'Were.'_ Past tense. So Gon had said it too, mimicked his wording to guard his heart and hide the truth.

Gon is caught off guard, though, when Killua blinks his eyes and tears roll down his cheeks. Suddenly, Gon wants to take it all back - what he’s just said, every petty or mean thought he's ever directed at Killua. If he had known it would lead to this, he wouldn’t have even chased down the car that shot past his speed trap. He hates it, finally seeing evidence that he can hurt Killua, who is wonderful and has already been hurt by too many who claim to love him. It would be so easy to go to his knees and say – _No, please, don't do that. It's my fault, it was all me, I wasn't good enough and I'm not worth crying over so please, Killua, stop. Don't cry please I'll do anything -_

And he would. He'd do anything to make Killua feel better – he'd take all the blame, he'd go jump into a river, he'd punch Silva or Illumi or maybe even Kikyo in the face if that would make it better.

Killua beats him to apologizing. “I'm sorry, Gon.” He lifts a hand to scrub at his eyes. “I just- I let them get in my head, you know? I let them make me think I really had to-” He takes a shuddering breath but the tears don't stop. “That I didn't need anyone. That no one needed me either, and I- I didn't want to hurt you so I left. I thought it would be e-easier if I just- If I just didn't let it go any further- And I – I was stupid and I'm sorry, I-”

“Killua, Killua, no, wait...” He reaches out, catches Killua's hands to stop them so he can be the one to wipe those tears away. “Look, it's okay. No, I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry.” His thumb runs through the wet trail below Killua’s eye. How long has it been since he could last touch Killua like this? It seems like much longer than a year. He is unaware of his own tears until he feels them run off his face and plop down onto his pants leg. “You don't have to be sorry for how they made you feel, that's not your fault. I just- I didn't want to burden you and if you really thought you'd be happy without me in your life I wanted to let you- I didn't want to be selfish, so I let you- I'm sorry, I should have known. I s-should have known, I should ha- have been there to help-”

Gon is surprised when Killua's arms suddenly find their way around Gon's middle, pulling him in for a tight embrace. Gon's arms easily go around Killua's narrower shoulders, though, holding him close. “No, you couldn’t have- I didn’t ever say- You were my best friend for ages, Gon. I'm sorry I ever doubted you.” The words are a little muffled against his shoulder, and he can tell Killua is still crying by the warm wetness that seeps into his shirt.

“I've missed you so much, Killua,” he admits, turning his face into his hair.

“I never wanted us to stop being friends.”

“We're – Me, neither, Killua. I thought about you a lot and I worried about you all the time.”

“I'm – Gon, can we be friends again? I don't want you out of my life but I-”

“Yes, Killua, of course-”

“I don't want to ask too much, I-”

“You could never ask too much, Killua. I want to be friends, too.”

Maybe that isn't all he wants, but Gon can certainly content himself with just that. Just Killua coming back into his life again would be so amazing – a blessing he hadn't dared to hope for.

Killua squeezes him and Gon squeezes back and thinks about how he never wants to let go.

“I still care about you so much, Gon.”

Gon laughs a little, the sort of laughter that bubbles out of you when you've got too much emotion in you to do anything else. A little overwhelmed, a little hysteric. More tears run down his face. “I still care about you, too, Killua. So much.”

After that, they spend several moments in each other's arms, quiet, sniffing, trying to discreetly wipe away their remaining tears. Killua's leaning into him and Gon is only too happy to act as his support. He dares to let himself run fingers through Killua's hair in hopes that it will help him calm down, and Killua makes no protest. He takes that as a good sign. Then, Killua begins to laugh, and he looks down as the top of his friend's head questioningly.

“What is it?”

“I can't believe we've been blubbering like a couple of babies in the park of all places.” Gon has to laugh at that, too. “I can't believe no one has found us.”

“Mmm. It's still the middle of the work day for most people. And school hasn't let out yet.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” Killua pulls himself up, then, and Gon reluctantly lets go. When he's not leaning against Gon, he sits a little taller than him.

Gon's fingers miss the feel of soft, white hair, but he does his best to push past that. “Hey, Killua?”

“Mmm? Yeah?”

“So, are you going to keep living out-”

Killua doesn't let him finish, shaking his head. “Oh, no. Hell no. I'm moving back here. I want to... I miss here. I mean, it'll still be easy for... I think Mom and Illumi will keep pestering me, but Alluka's here, too. And Ikalgo and … Well, my friends. You.”

Gon tries not to smile too hard at that. “Me. Your best friend,” he corrects with a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Killua says although he's smiling, too.

“Killua!” Inspiration strikes. “Let's promise then – let's promise to stay best friends, no matter what”

“What? Gon, really?”

Even as Killua speaks, Gon is picking up his friend’s hand and linking their little fingers together. He knows Killua is just going to roll his eyes and call him childish, so he takes it upon himself to sing their promise, and to press the pads of their thumbs together at the end – sealing it with a kiss. “There,” he says when he's finished. “Now we're officially best friends again, forever.”

That makes Killua laugh, which makes Gon feel lighter inside. He likes it when he can make Killua laugh. “Good. Because I think I might need my best friend to help with some heavy-lifting when I get all my furniture back here.”

“Oh, I see,” Gon laughs, feeling better than he has in an entire year. It's almost startling how easy it all comes back – being with Killua, fooling around and making each other laugh. “That's what this was really all about, huh? Have to reconcile with your buff cop buddy to make sure all your heavy, ugly furniture gets moved properly, huh?”

Killua chuckles, pushes a hand against Gon's face. “Oh, jeeze, shut up, Gon. It's not ugly. Maybe I'll get someone else to help, then.”

“Oh yeah? Like who?” Gon asks, poking him teasingly in his side, gripping his hand and holding it tight as Killua tries to scoot away. He still remembers all of Killua's ticklish spots.

“Anyone!” He cries. “Haha, I'll ask Ikalgo!”

“What? Ikalgo can't lift as much as me!” He grins, mercilessly digging fingers into Killua's ribs.

Killua breaks his hold though, tucks his knees under himself to increase the height difference between them and turns Gon's attack back on him. “Leorio, then!” He shoves his hands under Gon's arms - Gon’s worst weakness. “And maybe Knuckle, too! I hear he's just living a couple hours away, and he always stayed pretty fit.” Gon can hardly protest, too breathless with laughter, trying to squirm away from Killua while still looking dignified. He soon realizes there is no dignified way to squirm yourself out of a tickle attack. “And when they're done helping me, I'll treat them to dinner at your favorite restaurant, without you!”

“Nooo!” Gon cries, sliding down so he's almost laying on the bench now, wiggling helplessly. “Okay, okay! You win! I'll help you move your furniture and I'll stop calling it ugly!”

“That's right you will!” Killua pulls his hands back, lets Gon sit up as he tries to catch his breath. “I have excellent taste in all things.” As if to drive his point home, he pokes Gon right on his nose, smushing it back a little, grinning and glowing with the satisfaction of victory.

\- - - - - - - - -

Another few weeks sees Gon helping Killua pull his not-so-ugly furniture into his brand new, significantly smaller apartment - but with help.

It hadn't taken either of them long to realize that another pair of hands would probably actually be useful, and that calling in reinforcements isn’t such a bad idea after all. Killua asks for Iklago's help while Gon mentions it in a text message to Knuckle, and Leorio, upon hearing his favorite brat is coming home again, invites himself to help.

It turns into an event. On the day of the move-in, Ikalgo brings Palm, and Knuckle brings Shoot. Leorio brings only his enthusiasm and an apology from Kurapika, who has to work late, but who also suggested they all meet up for dinner later that evening. With so many people, they get a lot done over the course of the day.

“Including all of us and Kurapika, that's a party of, what, eight?” Gon hears Knuckle saying to the others while he sets down a box marked 'kitchen' on the dining table.

“Alluka said she's coming too,” Killua informs him shortly after, a laundry basket with what looks like a garbage bag full of clothes in it propped against his hip.

“So nine,” Knuckle corrects himself.

“Is there anywhere we can get a reservation for so many this late?” Palm questions aloud.

“Depends on the place, really. We'll have to decide where we're going first,” is Leorio's input.

While the rest of them debate where to eat, Gon calls Killua's name softly. “Hey, where should I put this?” He asks, gesturing with his chin to the box in his arms, marked 'cleaning stuff.'

“Uh, the laundry room for now, I guess. Here – it's this way.”

“Okay.”

As they get to the laundry room, Killua puts the basket on top of the drier, then turns to take one of the two garbage bags of clothes on top of the washer and moves it to the floor to make room for the box Gon carries. “Just put it there.”

Gon steps closer to do as asked. The laundry room is tiny, and probably not meant to accommodate two people at once, but they manage. “Are all of these dirty?” He nods to the bags of clothes in question.

“Ah, yeah,” Killua says, somewhat sheepishly. “I... I wasn't doing a lot of laundry there for a while, I guess. I kind of let everything get messy. But I was just ready to leave, so I figured I could clean them all when I was here and feel better about it than doing it all there.”

“Yeah. That makes sense,” Gon says.

In the living room, the sounds of Leorio and Knuckle debating the merits of two different sushi places rises in volume momentarily. Gon turns his head a little to listen over his shoulder, but eventually Palm and Shoot convince the other two to lower their voices. When he looks at Killua again, he's pulled the lid to the cleaning supplies box open, but is looking at him with something akin to fondness. Gon tries to ignore the way his cheeks warm.

“Sorry. It looks like we're probably not going to your favorite place, after all.” That said, Killua opens the cabinet above the washer and dryer and begins putting things away.

Gon shrugs, moves to help Killua unload the box. “That's fine. I'd rather go with less people, anyway. Maybe we could go grab lunch together sometime this week.”

“What, like a date?” Killua asks with humor in his tone. “Yeah, sure. When do you w-”

But Gon cuts him off. “Killua.” He stills with one hand in the box, the other poised on the edge. He is aware of the thumping of his heart, the heat that came too easily to his face.

“What is it Gon?” Killua asks as if he hadn't just joked about the topic they had been mutually dancing around since they had spoken at the park.

“You don't-” Gon shakes his head. _You don't mean that_ , he almost says. Instead, he goes for, “Being friends is important to me.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the confused expression Killua makes. “Yeah, it's important to me, too. I thought we'd already established that? You made me pinky promise, Gon,” the last sentence is spoken in a low and unamused tone. There’s another conversation there - a teasing one about the sacracy of pinky promises, where they’d both snark at each other but wind up laughing. It would be an easier conversation to have, but it’s not the conversation Gon wants to have right now.

Gon closes his eyes momentarily, then finds it in him to turn and look at his friend. The proximity is almost too close in this cramped little room. “I don't want... to ask for too much.” It seems like such an non-sequitur, Gon worries he might lose Killua, but he doesn’t.

Suddenly, the way Killua looks at him changes somehow – becomes more intense, even though Killua hasn't moved in any particular way. “Yeah?” He says, encouraging Gon to continue.

“Even so,” Gon swallows. “I still...”

Killua blinks, then looks at him with eyes that know too much, that know him too well. “You still...?”

Instead of saying it, Gon just nods, hoping that’s enough. “Yeah... Do you... still?”

“I do. Still.” Killua's gaze is unfaltering as he mimics Gon's words. “So, what should we do about it, then?”

Gon feels anxious, then. What _should_ they do about it? He knows what he wants, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling nervous about it. “I... I won't do anything you don't want,” he offers.

Killua frowns, his eyes going soft - a quiet sort of thoughtfulness falling over him. “I don't want to hurt you again,” he returns after a few moments. Before Gon can completely register the disappointment rising in his throat, however, Killua drops his gaze, kicks at the garbage bag by their feet, and continues, “But... I don't want to... to let myself be too afraid to move, you know?”

Gon grips the edge of the box tighter. He does know. He knows how that feels. “We could,” he begins, and has to swallow and pause to find his nerve. “We could go slow?” He suggests.

Killua looks up at him again, meets his gaze before his eyes do a flickering thing, dropping very briefly before finding Gon's eyes again. “Does going slow mean it's okay for me to kiss you right now?”

Gon doesn't have the patience to answer that with words. Instead he turns Killua around and presses him back into the washer, which makes a metallic popping sound in response - loud enough that Gon thinks maybe he should be worried about the others hearing, but he doesn’t. He’s too busy finding Killua’s hips with hand hands, holding him in a steady grip while he presses their mouths together. Killua's body goes pliant under his, but his hands fist in the front of Gon's shirt and his tongue insistently drags across Gon's lower lip. Gon finds himself incapable of thinking about literally anything else. He is already opening his mouth, a pleased noise working its way up his throat already when-

“Hey, Gon, Killua, where are you two? We think we dec-”

Palm's voice grows closer and stops suddenly. When their kiss breaks, Gon doesn't have it in him to turn around, just stares at Killua's face, which looks over his shoulder to where the woman stands behind him.

Killua takes a breath to say something, but he never gets the chance.

“ I found them! They're making out in the laundry room,” Palm announces loudly. Gon guesses she's turned away to do so based on the quality of her voice, and he can hear her footsteps as she retreats. Her announcement is met by various sounds of acknowledgment from the living room.

Gon is pretty sure that he can hear Shoot hissing Palm's name in a manner meant to reprimand her, and is that Leorio letting out a loud 'whoop'? Knuckle's rough but warm laughter can be heard and Ikalgo shouts, “Congratulations, but also hurry it up! We're hungry!”

Gon presses his face into the crook between Killua's neck and shoulder, muffling his own laughter while Killua raises his voice to reply. “Didn't you ever learn to knock, Palm?”

“Not when entering a laundry room, I didn't!” Comes the snarky reply.

Killua grumbles under his breath and Gon leans back to beam up at him. “Haha, sorry.”

Killua shrugs his shoulders. “Wouldn't have taken them long to figure it out anyway.” When he looks down at Gon, his expression softens, and he lifts a hand to cup his cheek. “You ready to go, then?”

“Mmm,” Gon hums and leans into the touch. He can't help but let his eyes slip back down to Killua's mouth, which curls into a smirk. “Maybe in just a min-”

His attempt to steal another kiss is interrupted when Leorio yells this time.

“Seriously, you two, hurry it up!”

Laughing, they pull apart, and leave the laundry room hand-in-hand, flushed, and smiling.


End file.
